


Therapy

by sasha_b



Series: Live By The Sword [72]
Category: King Arthur (2004), Original Work
Genre: Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Missing Scene, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 21:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_b/pseuds/sasha_b
Summary: Lancelot and Arthur talk some stuff out.Lancelot distracts Arthur.





	Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> This is set right around **21 Guns** in this same series.

Lance felt brittle, sometimes.

Sitting at the Bean, slumped in a chair, his sweats and dirty, old Converse shoes made him look like everyone else there, just another student.

But he knew better.

Taking a sip of his (now almost cold) Americano, he chanced a look around, watching the other kids, watching them laugh and read and talk to each other and try and focus on their studies while flirting and being kids. Lance cocked his head and intently watched; some of them he knew, while others were just strangers that he wanted desperately to be like. So desperately he didn’t realize he was slumping like the boy in one of the big chairs near him, until someone whacked his head with a book from behind.

He shot up into good posture immediately, but glared at Arthur as Arthur sat down across from him. The sun was bright on its last descent towards nighttime, and as Lance glowered at Arthur its yellow light hit the top of the other man’s hair _just so_, and turned it into red and gold fire. Lance’s anger faded, and while he was too proud to really smile at Arthur, he didn’t shout, either.

“You hit me why?”

“You’re slumping. I figured you might want to know if you looked like you might roll up into a ball,” Arthur _did_ smile, and Lance just shook his head. “You want more coffee?”

“Don’t try and get into my good graces, buddy,” Lance groused, although his mood at the sight of Arthur was beginning to shift to the better side of _I fucking hate studying._ “But yes, I do. Something sweet, this time.”

Arthur smirked and jumped over the back of the chair, heading for the barista and the cash register. Lance’s gaze followed him, and he did smile, then. He wasn’t able to hear what Arthur was saying to the barista, but he could see the other man’s expressions, and Arthur was Arthur and Lance knew there wasn’t much better in the world than that.

He looked down at his book again, but started when his phone rang. His shoulders tightened up as he picked up the phone and looked at the caller ID. Arthur was finished at the counter and slid his legs over the edge of his chair, setting a huge whipped monster of a drink down in front of Lance as Lance frowned at his phone. He made a face, and then hit the **Ignore** button a littler harder than he had meant to.

Arthur crossed his legs and took a sip of his drink - _plain black coffee, no doubt_ \- and pulled a textbook from his backpack. “Who was that?”

Lance knew better than to say “no one,” but he was casual about his words when he replied. “My mother.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shot to his hairline and he leaned forward, picking up Lance’s phone and looking at the call logs. “Your _mother_? Lance, she’s called three times. What gives?”

Lance frowned at Arthur and snatched his phone back. “Nothing. I don’t want to hear from her currently as I’m tad busy with school,” he gestured at his books. “Don’t you have a big test tomorrow?”

_Please don’t - _

“I remember when you and Guin had to schedule calls with her. Don’t you still do that? Don’t you think it’s an emergency if she’s called this much?” Arthur was like a damn dog with a bone sometimes; Lance hated that personality trait. He crossed his arms and legs, sitting like he did in yoga sometimes, ignoring the frappe that was currently melting on the table in between them.

“Not up to it right now, Arthur,” he bit off, and flapped his book open. He picked up the drink and sucked down a big gulp, wincing when the chill of it hit his brain and made him grit his teeth and squint. Arthur didn’t speak for a moment, which made Lance look up at him.

The sun had set totally, and Arthur’s face, not backlit by bright light anymore, was concerned and pulled into a troubled grimace and Lance shook his head and shut his book.

“Nope.”

Arthur opened his eyes wide, and leaned forward, taking the drink out of Lance’s hands and setting it gently on the table. “I know how you feel about her,” he said quietly, his fingers touching Lance’s knee. “I know how hard it is – ”

Lance stood and shuffled his books together, shoving them into his backpack, and slung it over his shoulder. “No,” he said. “I’m going home. Come or don’t.” He turned his back on the other man and shoved past other kids waiting in line, the _tinkle_ of the bell attached to the door tinny and annoying.

He walked toward his Charger, and Arthur caught up with him just as he was pushing the button on the key fob to open the doors.

“Lance,” Arthur slipped his fingers through Lance’s backpack straps and pulled it off his shoulder. “Let’s take a walk.” He reached around Lance and opened the car door, threw both their bags inside, and slammed it shut. Taking the fob out of Lance’s hand, he locked the door and turned to face Lance, an _Arthur_ expression on his face that made Lance sigh and growl. “Why?”

Crickets and night sounds were starting to filter in through the cacophony of street noise; Lance shoved his hands into his pockets and raised his shoulders around his ears. Arthur pulled on one of his hands and wound his fingers through Lance’s, smiling at him. Lance wrinkled his nose and snorted, but allowed Arthur to tug him toward the small park and river that lay behind the particular Bean they frequented.

“Because. Come on.”

*

They walked slowly along the river that meandered through the park, the sidewalk following it closely. Birds sang in the trees around them, and the wind was starting to pick up; Fall was Lance’s favorite season, and although they didn’t get a really good one in Los Angeles, there were a few days he thought were nice enough to fit the bill.

This seemed to be one, and he gradually began to swing his and Arthur’s joined hands as they walked. Stars dotted the sky a bit, even through the smog filled air.

He was enjoying himself, surprisingly –

“What’s happening with your mom?”

He closed his eyes and sighed. Untangling his fingers from Arthur’s, he crossed his arms over his chest and kept walking. “I don’t really know, Arthur. I don’t want to know, truth be told. Guin’s talked to her; that’s fine with me.” He walked a bit ahead of Arthur, kicking pebbles into the river, the _plunk_ they made as they entered the water indicative of his mood.

“Lance.”

He turned and glared at Arthur, throwing his arms into the air.

“She’s getting remarried, okay?? Sheesh, Arthur. Sometimes you just don’t know when to let things go, do you?” He rubbed hands through his hair and it stood up in crazy whorls. “I don’t know how to feel about it, and I don’t want to talk to her about it either. Or you, really,” he added, kicking at a larger rock that lay in the path. “I know I’m 21. I know it shouldn’t bother me. But it does. I’ve spent my entire life feeling left by her, and now she wants me to be happy for her? For another reason for her not to be involved in my life? To not ask me about what I’m doing? About why I’m happy? About my personal life? About you?? About us?” His voice lowered and he stared at the ground. “About why my father’s such an amoral dick?”

He rolled his lips inward and picked at them with the fingers of his right hand, the scars on his palm puckering and suddenly painful. The newish gold ring he wore bit into his skin too, and he cursed under his breath as he tried to shove away thoughts of his father, which was always the idea, but it didn’t work sometimes.

Especially while having to talk about his mother, and her new life, and Jesus, but nothing ever changed, did it?

“It doesn’t matter your age, Lance. I miss my mom every day, and I’m an adult. It’s weird,” Arthur said, facing him, the stars winking behind Arthur. “And your father is a dick. No explanation needed,” Arthur added, frowning. He scrubbed a hand over his face to remove the expression, and Lance twisted his lips as he approached Arthur. He took up Arthur’s hands and pulled them around his waist, leaning into the other man.

“It makes me feel stupid to care,” Lance whispered. “It makes me feel like everything I did to survive growing up doesn’t matter. It was all a waste of time.”

Arthur’s grip tightened, and Lance sighed as the familiar smell and feel of Arthur enveloped him, the best things ever, in his opinion. Despite his anger and embarrassment at how he felt, despite his surety he wasn’t going to be able to forgive his mother for leaving him.

Oh.

He lifted his head and smirked, his eyes burning unexpectedly. He leaned forward and kissed Arthur.

“You know I love you, right?”

He wound his fingers through Arthur’s longish hair and liked the feel of being able to bury his scars and his ring in the other man’s curls. Arthur’s eyes lit and he kissed Lance back, pressing his mouth sweetly to Lance’s, then to his nose and forehead. The night air was soft and the sounds of the river and the animals around them made Lance feel a bit better – calmer – and Arthur’s mouth on his –

The best things ever. It was okay for him to be brittle, sometimes, when he had this man to glue him back together.

He laughed against Arthur’s lips. “I love you.”

Arthur’s head cocked and he touched Lance’s cheek with a finger. “I love you,” he answered, although his face still echoed the concern he’d been feeling. “But it’s okay for you to be upset, Lance. You don’t have to act a certain way for me,” he bit off the rest of his sentence when Lance pressed him against a nearby tree and kissed him again. Arthur made an awkward and what he thought sounded like a horny noise, and snatched at Lance’s backside as they kissed.

Lance squeezed his fingers in Arthur’s hair. He shoved the thoughts he’d been plagued with away; this was what he needed, and yeah, he could feel stupid and young, but for now, he had what he wanted. He had the _answers_ he wanted, or at least the only ones he could get right away.

He kissed Arthur under the huge Sycamore they were leaning against, night surrounding them with its beauty and not a little scariness, unseen birds and crickets and things Lance didn’t want to know about singing their evening songs.

  
He was great at distracting Arthur this way, and he wanted to keep up his skills. So he kissed Arthur, and ignored his phone when it buzzed in his pocket again.

~

**Author's Note:**

> I hate summaries.
> 
> I just wanted to practice a bit with these boys before I started on my Big Bang. So here they are, in college, with Lance dealing with some unwanted feelings caused by his family issues. 
> 
> The boys and I say thank you for continuing to read and kudos/comment on this series and them!


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